Chapter 181: Death March, Part 2

With that out of the way, I could tell not everyone liked what I did. Ophelia was frowning. Talia seemed confused… “Was that really wise?” Was what she asked as we continued on. “I mean, you hit him pretty hard.”

“He’ll live, and its better he learned his lesson now, rather than later.”

Talia frowned but didn’t question me further. As for Ophelia, well, she stayed quiet.

“Ophelia, your bond, what did it give you?” I finally ask as we make our way forward.

“Metal magic.” She answered. “I can use it to reinforce myself, turning me into a good front liner, but I can also empower my bolts to increase their penetrating power.”

“And that’s it?” I ask.

“For now, yes, but I swear, I’ll prove myself.” She said so seriously, even though she had a small ape crawling over her. Which really did not sell an image of competence. She had a small sash on her person that she could keep the ape nestled away in, but as we walked about, she made a point to take it out.

Even then, she didn’t let her guard down. Her eyes were alert, ears perked. The moment we came to our first crossroads, she finally had a chance to show her worth. Guiding us along the mess of tunnels until finally we arrived at a set of stairs that led further into the depths, to the second level, the Water Works.

The journey was not a quick one. Nor was it uneventful. The sewers were packed with monsters. As if all the horrors that populated the city above after nightfall had fled here. Perhaps, perhaps it wasn’t such a crazy thought.

Not with how many there were.

Between all the fighting and breaks, I had the time to properly gauge our party’s capabilities. Orion was capable despite being unranked. His enhanced body was a pain to animate, elevating it to bronze rank would have been unfeasible. Not unless we used the still saturating magic generator, which would have set back its progress back to square one, or even further back according to Talia.

Still, his body was sturdy, and he displayed a good amount of strength for an average familiar.

As for the soldiers, they were surprisingly capable at clearing out the chaff. Being able to make tier one grenades meant they could clear out entire passageways with a few well-timed throws. Which made our progress forward bearable.  Fathom, Luna, and Estrella each showed a new level of strength that made even me slightly wary of them.

As for Talia and Ophelia, well, Talia was proving herself an able jack of all trades. If anything, she seemed to be doing her best to test all kinds and types of magics for the sake of it. Ophelia showed off her abilities, easily throwing herself into the front to engage with monsters, her cloak, shimmering as if it were liquid metal, and easily took or brushed aside blows like they were nothing. As for her ballista, she kept to using normal bolts, as the enhanced iron bolts were rather costly to use according to her.

So, with all those factors we made good time, especially when we encountered no bronze ranks. Just normal monsters. Or so it felt. It wasn’t until we began to descend further into the depths that I began to reconsider that notion.

Were we actually making good time?

“Is it me… or is this walk, longer than usual?” I couldn’t help but mention. The downward staircase went on for a ways, yes, but today it felt like it was going far too long.

Inevitably, we paused as we took in our surroundings. We glanced up, and all we could see was an endless tunnel that stretched into the abyss. As for looking down? Our vision was obscured by fog.

“Magical energy is denser than air…” Talia mutters. “It’s not surprising that it doesn’t simply disperse when the sun rises, rather, it probably sinks into the depths.”

“Meaning?” I questioned.

“Meaning, we might be in for a bit of a ride.” Ophelia chirped and Talia didn’t disagree.

I wasn’t sure how to respond, but soon enough we resumed our march down. Eventually we did hit the bottom, officially bringing us into the Water Works, only… it was nothing like we’d ever seen.

It always contained passageways lined with lights, with mechanisms creaking and groaning away. Pipes adorning the walls and ceiling dripped and dropped, with distant hisses filling the air.

This was nothing like that. It was expansive. The pipes that adorned the ceilings and walls had grown to the point where we could easily crawl inside them. Water that dripped and dropped instead came out like small rivers, making the brickwork not just wet, but submerged in areas.

The water in some places easily reached the ankles. Water flowed into channels where they were pushed further away. The sound of distant pumps, like giants breathing in and out echoed from afar. The sound of mechanisms creaking and groaning had taken on a new meaning as we looked up and saw gears churning and water flowing through mechanisms.

“Is this… really the same place?” I couldn’t help but voice and nobody answered back. Worried and frustrated, I checked my watch. What it showed me was damning.

“Twelve hours.” I mentioned. “We’ve been here almost twelve hours.”

Again nobody spoke. Should we stop? Should we take a rest? I dared not. Especially not when I heard distant sounds that sounded eerily familiar, like workers on a worksite.

Talia and Ophelia both glanced at me, as if seeking my answer. After all, I was the leader here.

Should I call this off? Was this too much? It probably was, but if I stopped here, could it be considered a death march? I had a purpose for coming, and I had made a decision. So, until the final moment I would keep going.

“Let’s move.” Neither argued as we went on.

It didn’t take long to find ourselves confronted with the denizens here, workers clad in work attire. Yellow vests, hard hats, and durable clothing wielding various tools. They moved about as if constantly fixing or repairing things, only, they were far more prevalent.

They were constantly working. Filling in gaps, working machines to mix concrete that looked more like soup as they slathered it on bricks, closing up passages. Replacing lights and working away to tighten bolts with wrenches.

I would have rather ignored them, but the moment they noticed us they became hostile. Throwing what they had on hand, utilizing any and anything in the area to bring us harm.

It wasn’t that dangerous, being that the average worker wasn’t much of a threat. Even with armor and weapons, they weren’t much to be concerned about. The problem is, some of these patrols had bronze ranks.

The bronze ranks were quickly put into categories as we continued to face them. The bruisers, wielding a sledgehammer, shovels, or picks. They were tough, their bodies clad in elbow and knee pads, alongside hard hats. Only, these pieces of armor could easily deflect most attacks. That, and they were absurdly sturdy.

Luckily, unlike before, Fathom could easily handle one without much issue, especially with his new enhanced body.

The second type was, at best, could be considered a technician of sort. They had a variety of tools and weapons. They tended to be more agility focused, throwing things like pencils, screwdrivers, or even hammers. In close combat they had a variety of weapons to pull from their toolbelt as well. Luckily, they weren’t nearly as sturdy, just very slippery.

The final type was a new addition. Also, the most dangerous. After all, they didn’t wield mundane tools, no, of all things, they wielded power tools. Reciprocating Saws that easily cut through most material like it was butter. Wielding them like chainsaws as they flailed them about. Jackhammers that could easily crack Fathom’s shield, or the stone beneath us. One even wielded a welding torch. Thankfully, these variants were slow, but they did significant damage to our frontliners, mainly Fathom, Luna, and Estrella.

Our resources were draining fast. The long hours of fighting were rapidly catching up to us. Just as we were hitting our limit though, we found a resting area… only… just outside it, was an entire working camp.

It was a large area. A massive body of water sat to the side. A massive water wheel creaked away, and water poured into it. Railings were up, making it so nobody would accidentally fall into the water. Scaffolding adorned the walls, as workers crawled over it like ants. Materials were moved about; a large variety of types were working and building. Before our very eyes, new systems were being installed.

There were… a lot of them. The more I saw, the more concerned I became. There were at least… five bronze ranks. two bruisers, a single technician and two power tools users. And at the center of it all was a new type entirely.

It wore a typical hard hat. Adorned in the same attire as the others, with a worn yellow vest. In their pockets were gloves and they lacked armor, only, in their hands was no tool or weapon. It was a megaphone. They were also… a silver rank.

Every once in a while, the silver ranked worker would speak into their megaphone, their voice came out oddly muffled. No discernible words came out, but it was baritone and filled the space. It was also what drew us in, that strange sound. Yet each time it spoke, the workers would adjust and move, like a colony of ants given new commands.

Watching them work, building new scaffolding as a bronze rank sawed wood and metal pipes that were bound together with nails and duct tape. New piping was being fitted in as another bronze rank worked to manually tighten bolts with an oversized wrench. Yet another bronze rank walked around with a shovel, moving concrete to fill holes or digging out loose bricks.

As for the others, a technician was measuring and making marks along the walls and places, barking out technical information to the other workers while hammering in nails and duct taping. As for the final bronze rank, they were atop the scaffolding, on their back was a large compressor that spewed out gas and rumbled making the whole scaffold vibrate. A singular tube connected the compressor to a massive rivet gun that punched rods of steel into the walls, affixing pipes and mechanisms to the walls.

It was impressive. But did we want to fight them, just for a chance to rest? I glanced at Ophelia and Talia, only to see the pair glancing back. Their eyes asking me the very same question.

Do we fight? Do we go back?

I wasn’t sure we’d find another rest area anytime soon, and considering out current state, I didn’t think we could make it until we found another rest area. Leaving us with no other choice.

We’d just have to bite the bullet.

“Ophelia, can you take out the silver rank?” I asked. It was within range, but I wasn’t confident a piercing round could kill it.

She frowned, “Yeah. I can do it.” Was her answer.

“Good, we’ll form up, take out the silver when you’re ready.”

She nods at my words as we take up positions. We were just outside their area, and they hadn’t quite noticed us. Still, I watched as Ophelia produced a bolt, a bolt easily the size of a javelin, only, this wasn’t a normal bolt. It was heavier, made fully of metal, and its tips glinted ominously in the dim lighting.

She loaded it into her weapon and pulled back the mechanism to load it. Once done, she aimed for the silver rank, taking her time to do so. The moment she loosed, it didn’t sound like a snap or crack, no, it sounded like an explosive going off. The sound was deafening, and immediately the horde before us stiffened and they all, in unified fashion, looked in our direction.

Her bolt travelled like a bolt of lightning, in an instant it was before the silver rank, and yet… at the last moment, the bronze rank wielding a shovel appeared, swinging right for the projectile.

The result?

The bolt hit with a resounding sound of metal exploding. The shovel head exploded, the bolt punched through, barely missing the silver rank as it stumbled aside from the shockwave of the bolt meeting shovel. Before any of us could react, Ophelia had loaded another bolt in and fired.

Once more, the bronze rank moved, now weaponless, and used its body to take the blow, making sure that its armored body was first to get hit.

The result?

Obliteration.

The entire upper body of the bronze rank simply ceased to be, instantly killing it. Yet before Ophelia could load a third bolt, the silver rank had managed to scramble away and bark into its megaphone.

The instant its voice boomed out, the entire horde moved as if possessed. Grabbing nearby tools, and whatever they could, the workers began to climb down the scaffold at an incredible speed, almost like a disturbed anthill.

Collectively, we all cursed. Lines were drawn, the mass of workers came surging in as a living tide.

“Grenades!” I announced, my soldiers threw altogether, with even me joining in. Grenades clattered on the stone ground, cold enough to leave frost in the small pools of water, landing right at the front of the tide.

Before they could react, they went off. Sending shrapnel everywhere. A small cloud of rime hung in the air, partially concealing our view. Yet not an instant later they came barreling through. Arms up, protecting their eyes and vitals, their bodies surprisingly fine despite having been right on top of an explosion.

The answer was clear. Their sturdy clothing and gear had absorbed the brunt of the blow. Shrapnel was imbedded into their thick clothing and glistened on their armored joints. What was left exposed had been protected, preventing any losses. But there was more to it, that alone shouldn’t have been enough to simply take a grenade, no, the silver rank was continuing to bark into their speaker, empowering them, strengthening their defenses.

Despite realizing this, I was undeterred. We would not retreat. We would commit.

“Loose!” Guns fired, a high and low song filled the air before bursting into ice. Those at the front stumbled as the water at their feet partially froze, impeding their advance. Rime hung in the air, freezing the moisture clinging to their frames, covering them all in a thin sheet of ice. The concussive force of the explosion was enough to stutter the whole line as well.

Yet, the horde did not pause. Rather, even as the front line stalled, those behind maneuvered around and through those at the front as if practiced, choreographed. Like a singular unit, they moved and quickly gained back what ground they lost.

I continued to fire rounds as my soldiers waited for their rifles to be repaired and just before the workers crashed into our frontline, a bolt cracked into the tide and split it, mincing all in its path. That single attack acted like a wave break, and Fathom took full charge. Surging forward, with Luna and Estrella at his side, he crashed into them. his cleaver-like blade swept through them, not quite cutting through them, but with a mighty heave he swept aside a good chunk of the tide.

Orion meanwhile began to hurl spears out. Aiming for stragglers, putting an end to those that were separated from the group, aiming for joints or exposed flesh with surprising success. With Fathom holding the line, Talia and Shi followed and began to sweep through, aiming for stragglers and those downed, they worked to rapidly cull their numbers.

Talia crackled with electricity as her body moved swiftly in one moment, the next her axe howled with wind as it swung, leaving long gashes in the tide where its arc passed and carving through unprepared workers. Whereas Shi moved with a tad more grace, borrowing from my own lessons to flit about by using her spears to cover more ground and as footholds. Her strikes slipped between gaps, punching into exposed flesh, crippling and wounding all before her, and when they fell, a spear bloomed from the earth and impaled them. Leaving behind a trail of impaled workers in her wake.

Few died from the impalement, but those that survived were quickly finished off by targeted strikes from anyone nearby.

For a moment, the tide stalled, but the silver rank’s muffled voice continued to blare out. More workers seemed to pour out of the scaffolding, almost like we’d kicked an ant’s nest. With every muffled set of phrases, the tide began to shift and churn into their favor.

“The silver ranks empowering them!” Talia announced, her blades of wind started to struggle against the chaff. Forcing her to strengthen the edge of her blade with metal. Even Shi found herself slowly being isolated and pushed back, forcing her back into our lines as they systematically destroyed her footholds.

Even Fathom started to take a beating, as bronze ranks joined the field. One wielding a massive monkey wrench came in swinging, nearly pushing back the large knight. His shield cracking under the blow. A following volley of metal spikes punched into his shield as the rivet gun wielding worker fired from atop the scaffolding.

Talia quickly did her best to equalize the field. Sending out her own magic to bolster Fathom. Additional magics were sent out, strengthening us all as another volley of bullets ripped through the enemy line.

For a moment we managed to stall their advance, to halt the shifting tides. Yet, the silver rank continued, barking out muffled words and commands. Injured workers got back up, wounds healing. Others saw themselves growing stronger with bursts of power, nearly knocking over fathom. Others grew sturdier, easily eating even the shrill piercing rounds of my rifle.

I tried everything. Normal rounds were best for killing individuals if aimed for the head. Piercing rounds were capable of punching through armor with ease, but as always, lacked true killing power. Explosive rounds were about useless. Shot rounds were just as useless, but they could push down pockets at a time.

Even using grenades mattered little, with high explosive grenades having the best effect, but in such a small range it was nearly useless. Of all of us, Ophelia had the most kills, but constantly using metal bolts was taking its toll on her. At this rate, we wouldn’t last.

It was in the midst of this, as I was working over my options that I felt something, a ping, a request, or rather… a command.

I didn’t question. Now was not the time. Instead, I simply did it. After all, from what I was feeling over our link, it might even work.

“Grenades!” I announce again, another volley was chucked out, the tide moved minimally to reduce the damage, and yet… These grenades weren’t of a lethal variety. No, instead of sending ice shrapnel, or an explosion, the grenades instead hissed. Filling the air with a misty rime that obscured and clouded vision.

And with that done, Orion moved.